“Mmm, this feels rockier than usual,” Jax mutters, and curse my form’s hearing! The plane jolts and Jax yelps. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! What was that?”
My eyes fly open. “I don’t know,” I whisper, scanning the worried faces. Particularly the flight attendant’s, a knot forming in my stomach when her eyebrows pucker. It’s never a good sign when the flight attendants look concerned. “I’m sure we’re fine.”
“The plane is bouncing up and down like a jumping castle!”
“It’s just turbulence.”
“Just turbulence?” Jax taps his teeth, although I’m not sure why. Probably just a strange, nervous tick. “Those two words do not mix well together!”
“I don’t think we took off well.” The passengers tighten their seatbelts, laughing anxiously when there’s another strange bump. “It’s like we didn’t get a proper run-up.”
“Well, maybe…” Jax wails when we nosedive, the plane practically vibrating with pressure. The passengers scream while children sob hysterically.
“This is nothing, Jax.” My feet scramble to find something to rest on. “Pilots do this so people can experience zero-gravity!”
“I don’t remember signing up for a zero-gravity experience!” He pants, chewing on his wrist as if it were a giant bone.
I have to calm down. My form’s heart is racing and I’m struggling to think straight with the commotion. Jax cuddles into me when I’m hit in the face by—
“Oh crap!” My eyes widen at the masks, the little omens that say, it’s all over; this is to trick you into thinking you have a chance; sucker. As people frantically try to pull the masks on, Jax throws his on and attempts to help me.
“I’ve done mine!” His voice is muffled through the mask. “I listened to the presentation! Stay still!”
“I don’t want a damn oxygen mask!” I swat it away. “It’s not going to help!”
“Please let me put it on!”
“No!”
“Yes!” He pushes the mask into my face.
“No!”
“Yes!”
We’re stopped when the lights blink, then leave us in darkness.
“Cabin crew, prepare for an emergency crash landing. Repeat, prepare for an emergency crash landing.” The pilot’s voice is shaky through the speaker.
The flight attendants rummage beneath their seats and pull out their inflatable vests.
Oh crap. This is for real now. We’re actually going to crash… and we might not all survive. The engine roars, falters… and then there’s silence, like they’ve switched off. The plane trembles and humans weep, praying to all types of gods.
I look out the window, gulping at the endless ocean, its colors merging with the sky.
“Colt.” Jax splutters, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t want to go to Hell.”
“You won’t.” I brace myself for impact. “Monsters don’t have souls.”
His eyes widen. “What? So this… this is it?”
“The end,” I verify, closing my eyes as the ocean rapidly approaches. I guess I made it to my cliché nine lives. Blocking out the terrified whimpers, my talons slip out and claw at the armrests.
Just breathe, Colt. Breathe. You’ve lived a good life. A good few, actually.
I remember the first human I possessed. She was a young girl, about eight, who went by the name of Anna-Lee in England.
Anna-Lee was rich, sophisticated, sweet… until I took over. Humans were a lot filthier back then, so it seemed only natural to possess a well-to-do child. The maids ensured I was clean and well-dressed. I would even call me pampered.
I was disgusted when the various plagues hit; mostly because of the number of cats disregarded during the sickness. People didn’t care if they kicked a cat up the bum out of starvation, irritation, or fever. It infuriated me, so I went on weekly rampages, helping to spread disease wherever possible. The council were a lot less uptight about their rules back then, so I had a wonderful reputation for slaughtering humans, with barely any consequences. Those were the days.
Anna-Lee lived until she was fifty-three, when her body just couldn’t contain me anymore. I slithered out and made my way into Benjamin, a simple fisherman. Now that was a good life. Catching fish all day every day and slitting the throats of cat-killing sailors passing through was perfection. Nothing has compared to Benjamin. It was too bad the good life only lasted for three years before I accidentally drowned him. I saw a catfish and dove right in, torn between wanting to eat it and befriend it. After all, it was part cat, part fish, right?
Unfortunately, I’m not exactly a strong swimmer. Poor Benjamin was dying just as a merchant jumped in to save him. During the panic, I weaseled out of my old meat suit and into the new one. Benjamin died mere seconds after I left, and the merchant started burning from the inside out the longer I stayed.
As a general rule, I’ve found I can’t possess good people. It sounds strange, but I’ve noticed a pattern. Decent humans burn when I’m in them, but the murderers, bullies, cat-killers, criminals, conmen… they do fine. Maybe they’re used to having evil coursing through their veins. That said, Anna-Lee was too young to be evil, so maybe I’m wrong.
The merchant got me as far as Paris, spontaneously combusting when I left the body to possess Ant, a sleazy conman. I didn’t like Ant. His whole form gave me the heebie-jeebies, so I lined up my next possession and slunk out, but not before throwing him in front of a runaway horse; just for “lol’s.”
My other lives blurred in with one another. I lived as a crossdresser, a doctor that deliberately killed his patients, a president focused on his own agenda, and a cook who enjoyed poisoning his customers.
I suppose I’ve done a lot, but it doesn’t make my imminent death any easier. I open my eyes, my heart sinking at the horror.
The back of the plane tears off, as passengers are sucked screaming into the air. My stomach flips and my jaw clenches as we collide with the water, the impact so much worse than anything you’d see on TV. My face slams into the seat in front of me, water quickly filling the plane, the front half already drowned.
“Undo your seatbelt!” Jax pulls at his. “Oh God, mine’s stuck! We’re sinking, Colt! We’re sinking!”
The water is ice cold, instantly numbing my joints as it rises to my neck. I yank at my seatbelt, but like Jax’s, it’s wedged.
“This is it!” Jax gurgles, the water running down his throat.
I gurgle in response as we thrash to get out of our seats, but it’s no use. I seriously can’t believe this is it. Some passengers have managed to undo their buckles, but they’re just as trapped as us. They’ll never swim to the surface in time.
A peaceful wave of acceptance doesn’t hit me like it does in the movies. Instead I scream, blinded by my own bubbles. My vision tunnels in and within a short moment, my existence fades away, as my lungs fill with water, my heart stops beating, my brain stops thinking…
“Good morning, Colt!”
My heart hammers against my chest when I’m greeted by the Bakhtak sitting on my stomach, his face disconcertingly close to mine. He’s the most repulsive creature I’ve ever seen. Seriously. He’s larger than most of his kin—about three-foot-tall, his body covered with stray hairs and a sticky substance.
“Bakhtak?” I try to throw him off, but he’s deceptively heavy.
It’s only now I realize I’m not underwater. The plane is intact and keeping true to form, an incompetent mother allows her no-hope brat to pound the back of my seat.
“Have a good dream?” he asks, his grin wide and kinda sleazy.
“You’re the worst,” I say. “I mean it, dude, what was that for?”
“It’s good to see you again, too. Thought you’d get a kick out of that nightmare. Remember the last one you had? I believe you were in the form of a little girl. Time flies, doesn’t it? Messing with monsters is way more fun than with humans. A lot tastier.”
“Who is this?” Jax leans over, staring at the Ba
khtak in disbelief. “Is this the guy we’ve been waiting for? What if the humans see?”
“Chill, dog. Humans can’t see me.” He jumps off me and climbs the seat in front of us, perching at the head. “So I’ve decided I’m not down with this community service nonsense.”
Jax laughs, almost hysterically. “Bakhtak, you have to do community service.”
“Or what? The council can’t catch me. I live in between worlds. I’ve never had to do community service in my life.”
“But… but you have to!” Jax chokes.
“He’s a stickler for rules, Bakhtak,” I say, still adjusting to the fact that I’m not, you know, drowning.
“Of course I am! I’ll… I’ll tell St. Damian! Or the council!”
Oh boy. Bad decision, Jax. If there’s one thing Bakhtaks hate, it’s empty threats. Jax is gonna pay for this one. The Bakhtak’s smile vanishes, replaced by a mad glint in his bulging eyes.
“You’re going to rat on me?” the Bakhtak sounds like he’s egging Jax on. “And how could that possibly benefit you? If you even so much as think about ratting on me, I’ll make your life a living hell. You got that, doggy? You’ll regret it.”
“He’s right, Jax. Trust me, his paybacks are pretty rough.”
Defiantly, Jax puts his nose in the air, his voice quivering. “It’s the right thing to do.”
He needs a slap. I can’t blame the Bakhtak for arching his eyebrows and disappearing in a puff of smoke. He’s going to take his time to work out how to get revenge on Jax, which is the last thing we need. Bakhtaks are very good at making others look like they’re at fault.
Jax anxiously fiddles with his headset. “He… he didn’t mean that, did he?”
“Oh yeah. I’d be scared to sleep if I were you. That’s where he gets you.”
“I don’t sleep much anyway… so, so I’ll be fine! Won’t I?”
“Jax, he knows our inner thoughts and fears. He thrives off that in our dreams. Rest up now, kid.” I grin. “You’ve just entered your worst nightmare.”
“We have freedom of speech, but you got to watch what you say.”
– Viola Spolin
o I officially made enemies with everybody onboard. The flight attendant refused to even look at me, Jax switched seats and the woman breastfeeding caught me staring, and uh, that didn’t end well. Who could blame me? It’s just so mesmerizing…
We can’t land soon enough. After twenty-plus painstaking hours, we land smoothly and begin the who-can-get-off-the-torture-plane-first race. It’s always hectic; kind of like Black Friday sales, but not as deadly.
Jax has asked to move to the front—he was allegedly suffocating due to my overwhelming odor—so naturally he managed to escape faster. With a brown backpack over his shoulder, he waits for me next to a hippie store with a sickly sweet sign. There are no customers inside, and I can’t blame them. It’s way too fruity, even by My Little Pony standards. That said, I don’t mind My Little Pony. There’s something majestic and beautiful about them… plus, the dolls feel great to bite into.
“Why are you waiting here?” I ask.
“It’s… um, out of the way.” He lifts his chin and sniffs. “I hate crowds. Crowds mean targets for terrorists, you know! I can smell fear, and it’s not mine. It’s coming from inside the store, so I thought we could check it out.”
“Jax… buddy, we’re not superheroes. We don’t go around saving humans!”
“Well… well, can’t we? I’m not the bad guy here! I mean, not… not really. I make up for my monthly rampages by helping distressed civilians in my human form. So, either you can wait for me here, or you can come with me.”
What a weird guy. His words are meant to be threatening, but his voice shakes. Such a nervous little bugger.
I roll my eyes and motion toward the store. “I’ll come. Purely for spectator purposes, of course.”
Like an enraged, yet inspired princess, he flounces into the store, losing the last morsel of masculinity he possessed. It wasn’t a big morsel.
The store is some kind of gross candle place, and I can’t stand the aroma. Surprisingly, Jax isn’t freaked out by it, but maybe the scents mask my own filthy smell.
I pick up a lime-green candle and sniff it, while Jax scopes out the establishment.
He stops at a door in the back. We freeze when muffled giggles come from inside, followed by screams.
“In here!” Jax yells. He kicks open the door like the CIA agent he’s probably always wanted to be and reveals two women in a shadowy corner.
I stride over, my eyes easily adjusting to the darkness.
There’s a girl in her early twenties, close to tears, shoved up against the wall. The other woman is short, chubby and wearing denim jeans and some strange kind of silky shirt.
“Oh!” the chubby woman gasps when she spots us. She fans herself with one hand and puts the other on her heart. “Good grief! You… you nearly, almost certainly, gave me a heart attack, fellas. Woof!”
I throw my head back and groan. I can’t believe this. Am I actually the last monster on earth? We’re supposed to scare and slaughter, not… this! “Were you just tickling that girl?”
“No! I mean. Yes. YES! Tickling is fun, right? Right, Suzie?”
Suzie whimpers. “I couldn’t breathe!”
I scratch the back of my neck. “Get out of here. We’ll take care of this, okay, kiddo?”
She nods and scurries out of the shop, her sandals squeaking on the tiles.
The woman throws her hands in the air. “What’d you do that for? She had really great ribs to get my fingers into!”
“You’re a Leshi,” I say with a fake smile. “A mother-flippin’ Leshi. The world’s devoted Tickle Monster.”
“Hey!” She points. “I resent the word ‘monster’! Sure, I have a problem. I like to tickle people to death. So what? It gives them joy during their final minutes.”
“You out of rehab?”
She cringes. “Ah, not exactly. I got busted. They gave me community service. I… ah, I got a real problem, it’s true. Tickling is my pride and joy.”
I laugh—that ugly, throaty laugh you make whenever you try to suppress it. Worst. Monster. Ever. “So, what’s your name, Leshi?”
“Ah, it’s, yeah, it’s Lexi. A kid I tickled a few decades ago kept calling me that through tears of joy… and pain. Tickling feels good and bad, doesn’t it? Anyway, the name stuck! So, what can I do for you fellas? I don’t work here, but I’m sure I can direct you to a fine-smelling candle!”
I exchange an awkward look with Jax. “Lexi, what’s your community service exactly?”
“Some community theater crap in some hick town, or something. I’m hoping if I hide out here, I won’t have to go.” She picks up a candle closest to her and sniffs it, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Mmm, vanilla-coconut-strawberry-something!”
“You don’t even know what flavor that is, do you?”
“Not a clue.”
I step closer and link my arm through Lexi’s. “Come on. You’re not weaseling out of this if we aren’t. We need a woman. All plays have a kissing scene, and I’m not kissing Jax. He’s far too twitchy for that.”
Lexi’s eyes twinkle, her mouth forming a perfect O as she gasps. “Oh! Well, okay! This could be fun!”
“Oh, it’s going to be positively delightful!” I mewl in an exaggerated, high-pitched tone. “You got any baggage? The non-emotional kind?”
“I do. I store it in my stomach; vomit it up when I need it.”
“That’s so charming, Lexi.” I push through gritted teeth. “Jax, you ready to get out of here? What’s the protocol?”
Jax fumbles with his backpack, pulls out his handy instruction manual, and flicks through several pages. Should I feel remotely ashamed that I’ve never so much as opened mine? Especially, considering it’s supposed to renew itself every time, to suit the latest offense-and-punishment cycle.
“Okay, here we go. Welcome, prisoners… Ph
ew!” Beads of sweat form on his forehead. “Prisoners… that’s a scary thought. Anyway,” he resumes. “By now, you will have reached your destination. You most likely will have met fellow parolees on your journey. Together, you will travel via public transport to the theater. There, you will be greeted by Saffron-Jade, the owner-director. Saffron-Jade is human and unaware of your existence and punishment. She will ask that you audition with a monologue of your choice. It is extremely unlikely that anyone else auditions, so you will obtain a role. It is pivotal that you remain in your human form and be on your best behavior. Your service will end after the opening performance. Good luck.” Jax shoves the manual back in his backpack, the color draining from his face. “I didn’t know I had to audition.”
“Just wing it, dude!” Lexi shuffles over and slaps Jax on the back, who only trips forward. “This is an adventure! How exciting! Bus is this way! This way! Next to the concrete fence with that movie poster!”
“Concrete fence…?” I ask.
“Yeah… ugh, I’m the worst with words. My brain just stops working. You know… the concrete fence thing.”
I frown. “Do you mean a wall?”
“Ah! Yes! The wall! The bus arrives next to the wall with the movie poster!” Unusually spritely for a woman her size, she rushes out of the shop and up the escalator, waving at us to hurry up.
I let Jax run ahead and smuggle several candles, slipping them down my shirt and pockets. That crazy werewolf didn’t seem as offended by my odor when surrounded by pretty smells, so it’s worth a shot. I’m nothing if not pragmatic.
I catch up to them outside of the airport, where my second most despised mode of transport awaits.
A skin-crawling, gag-inducing bus.
“People without money lead richer lives.”
– Sean Hull, the sod possessed by a mother-trucking vampire cat.
didn’t realize how bad Lexi’s addiction was. For the whole bus trip, she kept standing up and heading toward humans like a zombie, arms outstretched, eyes bulging with hunger. I spent most of my time dragging her back to her seat.
Colt Harper: Esteemed Vampire Cat Page 3